This one is in memoriam, Pablo Neruda.
It's called "World is a Word."
Nothing can be unless in a word reborn.
The present isn't, unless said.
Love won't do if I don't hear "I love you" every day.
I need to hear it from my own mouth, too.
The word, once uttered, will return into the utterer,
an evidence, an irrefutability.
I don't exist myself, not in the least,
if I can't breathe a word of this.
Breathe in, breathe out.
From earth, the stars that we are seeing send a semaphore
that says, "In the beginning was..."
Meanwhile, word murderers have their designs on human being.